


SASO Bonus Round Fills Galore

by chromyrose



Category: Free!, Haikyuu!!, ダイヤのA | Daiya no A | Ace of Diamond
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Crack, Friendship, Gen, M/M, One Shot Collection, Romance, unrelated oneshots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-12
Updated: 2016-07-17
Packaged: 2018-07-23 02:15:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 14,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7462752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chromyrose/pseuds/chromyrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of SASO 2016 bonus round fills that are too short to post individually. Each chapter is a separate fic, and pairings and prompt words will be used for chapter titles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Yamaguchi/Tanaka + "some bald guys are hot"

**Author's Note:**

> I have a lot of SASO fills that I'm pretty proud of, but a lot of them are at or below the 600 word count, which I don't think merits a unique post. Thus, all those fics will be placed here for safekeeping. Enjoy!

Yamaguchi didn't exactly think he was being subtle; honestly, at that point subtlety was the furthest thing from his intentions. 

“There are some hot bald guys, though,” he said quickly, hoping to comfort Tanaka-senpai in some small way. There were probably lots of reasons Tanaka-senpai might compare himself to Asahi-san, but hair shouldn't have been one of them. 

Rather than take the compliment for what it was, Tanaka turned to snap at Yamaguchi, “I'm not bald!” Which was a fair enough distinction, given he'd willingly shaved his head, but Yamaguchi was pretty sure hairless was hairless regardless of how one got there. Also, Tanaka-senpai still wasn't wearing his jersey, and when he turned to shout Yamaguchi got to watch all of the muscles in his sides and back shift under his skin. 

Tsukishima, who probably already knew about Yamaguchi's bisexuality even though it had never come up, used his typical aloofness to remind Tanaka-senpai to get dressed, and Yamaguchi simultaneously enjoyed all the work it took Tanaka-senpai's arms to stretch above his head and pull his shirt on, and mourned the loss of the sight of his abs. Ah, well, knowing Tanaka-senpai, it probably wouldn't be too long until he was taking his shirt off again. Practice matches got him riled up enough, usually. 

Most of the queer people that Yamaguchi knew were fictional characters; in stories it seemed like everyone was paranoid about being found out, to such an extent that he'd thought it would be easy, coming out about his sexuality. But no matter what little comments he made, nothing seemed to get through to his teammates; either he was on the most open-minded and affectionate boys' volleyball team in all of Japan, or Tsukishima was right and every last one of them was an idiot. 

It was a surprise, then, that after their matches ended and they changed back into their uniforms Tanaka-senpai seemed to be loitering outside of the gym, and that his face lit up when he saw Yamaguchi coming out of the club room. 

He sneered a little at Tsukishima first, but then asked, “Did you mean what you said before? A-about shaved guys being hot?” 

Yamaguchi blinked and wondered if this moment was actually happening. He took a quick peek at Tsukishima's face, and yes, surprised and vaguely-constipated, but mostly surprised; it was happening. Yamaguchi tugged at his collar, which was feeling unusually tight. 

“Oh! Um, yeah. I don't really make a habit of lying, Tanaka-senpai.” 

Tanaka-senpai's face seemed to light up like the sky during festival fireworks. “Really? Because, you know, I guess I sort of have a thing for the quiet type...”

“I am absolutely not going to bear witness to this,” Tsukishima muttered under his breath. He shoved Yamaguchi forward, making him stumble and brace his hands against Tanaka-senpai's shoulders to keep upright. “If you're anything less than a gentleman to him, they won't find your body.” 

Tanaka-senpai blinked owlishly between Tsukishima, who was already walking away, and Yamaguchi, who met his gaze with a sheepish shrug before bursting out into uncontrollable peals of laughter. At least until Tanaka-senpai found a way to put an end to them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [twitter](https://twitter.com/haikyuutiie) | [tumblr](http://zahhaked.tumblr.com)


	2. Asahi/Nishinoya + "do it for the vine"

Within the volleyball community, Azumane Asahi did not have much of a reputation; occasionally someone would report back about having overheard another team's captain warning about “Karasuno's number 3's serves” or “their giant Ace's spikes,” but generally it was never by his name. Overall, he was okay with that; of course it would have been nice to have some kind of notoriety, but he probably wouldn't be able to handle it if he was as well-known as Oikawa or Ushijima. As it was, he could hardly handle the attention his schoolmates gave him just for existing, for his physical size, or for his _facial hair_.

No, fame was never really something Asahi strived for. Which made it unfortunate that it was basically everything his boyfriend wanted. And Nishinoya wasn't just content to be Karasuno's Guardian Deity, that amazing libero from Chidoriyama Middle; he was after a different kind of popularity – 

“Come on, Asahi, please? All of my most popular videos are ones of you! The world loves you!” 

– Internet fame.

Asahi thought it was cute the first few times, when Nishinoya would make Kageyama serve to him and have Tanaka record his Rolling Thunder receives, or when Noya would scarf down a Gari Gari Kun in three bites or less with Tanaka chanting from behind his smartphone. He was less certain about Nishinoya and Tanaka's rampant pranking phase, where anyone and everyone could be their next victim, but that only lasted until Coach Ukai ended up with a face full of baby powder and tripled their training regimen for a week. 

And then came the kabedon. Ready and willing to follow any trends in his quest for internet fame, Nishinoya pulled the move on an unsuspecting, half-dressed Asahi in the club room one day before practice, making Asahi squeak and look down at his then relatively-new boyfriend in an uncomfortable mix of shock, arousal, and humor. 

Noya's Vine audience seemed to enjoy it, or else just found it especially humorous: whether it was the size difference, Asahi's unmanly noise, or the way he pulled his shirt up to cover his indecent chest, he'd never know. But with that video came more followers, and after that, Nishinoya was convinced that Asahi was his gold mine. 

“Nishinoya, I'm not really sure that they 'love me'. More like they enjoy laughing _at_ me...” 

Nishinoya wasn't listening, though; he was batting his lashes and leaning in close, so his words came out as puffs of breath against Asahi's cheek. 

“Okay, okay, forget them. _I_ love you. And it would make me so, so happy if you agreed to do this one little thing for me? Please please?” 

Asahi felt cornered. Behind him he heard the jangle of coins, and when he turned around Daichi was looking over at the first years, while Suga winked and waved at him. Of course they'd placed bets. 

“...What is it?” 

“Hmm?” Nishinoya wondered innocently. 

“What is the thing you want me to do for this video?” 

“Ohhh,” he hummed, trying and failing not to look like a demon incarnate. “It's really simple, it'll only take less than a minute! See, Ryuu and I are gonna dump out the packet of this ramune powder candy on the table, in a straight line, and you've just gotta snort it like it's cocaine.” 

Asahi choked on his next breath, and Kinoshita fell out of his chair, failing to hold in his laugh. Nishinoya shot Kinoshita a death glare before putting his arm around Asahi's back, thumping him gently. 

“Easy there, big guy, it's nothing to get worked up over. It's not actually cocaine. We're not even gonna pretend it is! It's just a closest thing we could find to this American candy called Pixie Stix, and they do this challenge video there all the time.” 

“Have you already run out of Japanese memes to torture Asahi-san with?” Ennoshita commented a bit dryly; unfortunately, it didn't look like he was actually going to come to Asahi's rescue. 

“Nah, just trying to broaden our horizons, give the people of Japan something they haven't seen before. So what do you say, Asa-chan?” 

Even the affectionate nickname spoken in front of their _entire team_ would not get Asahi to fold, nuh-uh. He managed to croak out a hasty “No!,” though Nishinoya was already pushing him towards the desk that hung out in their club room. It never occurred to him to use his strength to get out of his tiny boyfriend's vise-like grip, and by the time he was seated at the desk, the whole club had crowded him, and there was a phone in his face.

–

Asahi's nose burned like never before, and he coughed harshly, sending a cloud of ramune right up into his eyes. His coughing fit wasn't done when Yachi came knocking on the door to let them know Ukai wanted to close the gym, and they'd better hurry up in there, but at least that made everyone else remember they had other things to do. Tanaka put his phone away and clapped Asahi on the shoulder for being such a good sport; Asahi contemplated murder for the first moment in his life. 

“Hey there, Asa-chan, you're okay,” Noya was crooning in his ear, wiping his face down with a damp towel and then passing him the water bottle. “You're okay. You did so good, big guy. I love you.” 

And Asahi, chagrined as he was after that bout of humiliation, allowed Nishinoya the honor of kissing the wayward ramune powder off of his pouted lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [twitter](https://twitter.com/haikyuutiie) | [tumblr](http://zahhaked.tumblr.com)


	3. Asahi/Nishinoya + "dowry"

The last thing Asahi had anticipated after coming out to Daichi and Suga about his relationship with Nishinoya was an intervention on _Noya's_ behalf. 

“If you're going to date Nishinoya, we're going to need you to prove that you can take care of him. Provide for him.” 

“And... And in order to prove that I have to give _you_ a _dowry_?” 

Suga was grinning, petting Nishinoya's spiky hair indulgently; worse, Nishinoya was allowing it, fully amused by the situation. 

“That's what we're asking,” Suga agreed. “Three pork buns for me, and three for Daichi, and then you have our blessing to date Nishinoya.” 

“And you should feel lucky I managed to talk him down from five each, and one more every week til we graduate,” Daichi added, barely suppressing a grin of his own. Asahi's hurt, betrayal, and utter confusion had him looking back and forth between his two best friends like a gaping fish. 

“But – But why do I have to give YOU the dowry? We're not getting married, but even if we were, doesn't the dowry go to the bride's parents?” 

“Nishinoya is totally our son!” Suga scoffed, and that sort of explained the weird petting. Nishinoya was preening under the touch and jealousy was mixing into Asahi's emotional cocktail. “Our one precious tiny libero. The only libero on the team!” 

“It would be terrible if something happened to him because his massive partner forgot his own strength. After all, we can replace an Ace.” 

“Daichi, that sounds more than mildly threatening,” Asahi whined, shivering in his skin. “I would never hurt Nishinoya, anyways. Honestly... he's more likely to harm me. In a non-emotional way!” 

Nishinoya's laugh was barking, and he slipped out from under Suga's hand. 

“He has a point. And it's pretty tough for me to stand here and listen to my pretty perfect boyfriend get threatened, even if it makes him look adorable.” 

He skipped ( _skipped_!) over to Asahi's side, then jumped to wrap his arms around his shoulders.

“Dad, other Dad,” he started seriously, peering at Daichi and Suga with his head side by side with Asahi's. “There will be no dowry. Asahi and I... we're eloping!” 

“You will do no such thing, young man,” Daichi replied sternly. Asahi started to wonder when he stepped into the Twilight Zone, only for Nishinoya to kick the back of his shins, instruct him to run, and cackle madly as Suga's scandalized shouts followed them out of the club room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [twitter](https://twitter.com/haikyuutiie) | [tumblr](http://zahhaked.tumblr.com)


	4. Ryousuke/Kuramochi + "gay teen married"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please be aware there is a lot of underaged drinking in this chapter, which the author does not condone.

There was a lot of good to be said for the method of scouting out, recruiting, housing, and giving diligent daily training to any of the Japanese youth with an inkling of baseball talent that a powerhouse school could get its hands on; after all, that was what made them powerhouse schools in the first place. And Seido, though lacking in recent Nationals' appearances, followed this formula to astounding results on the field, where the team at its best worked like a well-oiled machine, leaving no room for error. 

But there were still times when the team was off the field, when practice was suspended in order to allow the players to rest their stressed bodies, to reinforce the idea that there was such a thing as too much training. And in those times, they were no longer the future of Japanese baseball, but ordinary teenage boys, living in a dorm building of their own with minimal supervision – in other words, the perfect setup for a night of partying. 

They made themselves comfortable in Miyuki's room. Isashiki-san managed to get his hands on more than enough alcohol for at least the entire first-string, but was taking extra care to bark at anyone who even attempted to drink straight booze under his watchful eye; cutting loose and partying was one thing, he said, but he wasn't about to put anyone, or the team as a whole, into danger. 

Kuramochi had lain claim to Miyuki's bed once Tetsu-san had drawn him away for an obligatory shoji match, and he was watching the action in the room around him while nursing a cup of vodka with Aquarius. 

Surprisingly, Tetsu-san was much better at shoji when slightly inebriated, though the definite cloud of booze-stink coming off of Miyuki's person was the more likely cause than any of his own skill. Masuko-san had opted to eat half a pudding, pour some liquor over the other half, and was spooning the resulting mixture into his mouth way too sinfully for the audience of underaged boys in the room, not that anyone else was paying attention. The first year trio was sitting in the corner, gathered in their own circle with a deck of cards and an unhealthy amount of wasted plastic cups. Kuramochi was pretty sure he saw a bottle of orange juice in Furuya's lap, so they'd probably be alright. 

The main draw of Kuramochi's sleepy, wayward focus ended up being the TV, with his game console connected and Tanba-san and Ryou-san duking it out on Rainbow Road. Apparently they'd turned the races into some kind of drinking game, but the rules were hard to make out just from watching. Whatever it was, it was much more complex than just “loser downs another shot.” 

He wasn't sure how long he'd been watching them play until Sawamura's voice cut through his drunken haze like a taser. 

“Wow, Kuramochi-senpai fell asleep with his eyes open!” 

He turned his head around a little too quickly, and all he could see was pink until his vision caught up to the underclassmen. Something in his expression must have been unfocused, because Sawamura's reaction was to scream and throw a cushion at him. 

“I'm not asleep, Bakamura!” He shouted, his tongue thick. It felt weird in his mouth. Luckily the words made sense. 

“H-How was I supposed to know that? You've been staring at the back of onii-san's head for like twenty minutes straight! The whole team is cool with you dating but keep the gross stuff to yourselves!” 

The room was suddenly so quiet, Kuramochi swore he heard the sound of his heart falling into his stomach. 

“I – That was, the game! I was watching th-the game, n-not... that.”

Ryou-san took his time getting to his feet, but didn't wobble or waver at all; either he had a really high alcohol tolerance, or Tanba was losing quite severely. His eyes were impossible to make sense of, as always, but the curl to his lip was dark and devious and _oh god he's so hot_.

“You weren't staring at me, You-chan?” He said it like he was pouting, but his face wasn't pouting at all. “And here I thought you _loved me_.” 

“I do!” Kuramochi tripped over himself, literally, to say. He braced his hands on Ryou-san's shoulders for balance. “Of course I love you!” 

“How much?” 

Kuramochi's mouth hung open for a moment, as his mind scrambled. How much? Was that a normal question? Was love measured in kilos? No, that was fucking stupid. 

“E-Enough!” He affirmed after a long beat of silence. “Enough to marry you! Right now! Marry me, Ryou-san!” 

Kuramochi kept his hands on Ryou-san's body, sliding them down his chest as he sank to one knee. Somewhere in the distance, someone wolf-whistled, and Haruichi was stammering incomprehensibly; he was so cute. But his brother, his brother was _hot as fuck_. 

The tension in the air seemed palpable, or maybe that was just the taste vodka and Aquarius left behind in the mouth. Kuramochi was looking right up at his boyfriend, hoping that perhaps if he could muster up enough cuteness, he wouldn't be humiliated in front of the entire first-string because yeah, that was going to happen. 

Ryou-san hummed. “Do you, Kuramochi Youichi, vow to take care of me in my time of need and to remain punk as fuck and smoking hot til death do us part?” 

“I. I do!” Hell fucking yes, I do.

Ryou-san smiled. “I now pronounce us drunk teen gay married. Get up here and kiss your bride, You-chan.” 

_Gladly._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [twitter](https://twitter.com/haikyuutiie) | [tumblr](http://zahhaked.tumblr.com)


	5. Nagisa & Gou + "coming out"

Even after three years of managing a boys' high school swim team, it seemed as though Gou's sensitivity to glistening muscles in all of their beautiful, masculine forms was still at its peak. Nagisa had found it funny, the first two years, in how uncomfortable it seemed to make Makoto and Rei. It was still funny when they inherited the club at the start of their third year, when she quite openly checked out all of their new freshmen recruits, calling it an “evaluation.” Then she conspired with Rei to create individualized training and nutritional regimens for each one of them, and the kids were naïve enough to be excited about the prospect of bulking up. 

“I'd never date one of our freshmen,” she huffed inelegantly when Nagisa voiced his accusation. “I need someone way more mature than they could ever be.” 

She swatted him away when he started cackling at that, bringing up the very decidedly immature Mikoshiba brothers and their continued text messages to her phone. 

It wasn't long after that that Nagisa started to tire of Gou's fangirlish praises being sung at every joint practice or swim meet. He didn't want to think too much about his frustration, especially not about the _why_ of it, but at regionals, as Gou went through her usual spiel, Nagisa found his top exploding. 

“Alriiiight, Gou-chan, you like muscles a lot, we get it!” 

Gou turned to him, assuming the conventional ' _I'm a girl and you've just offended me_ ' pose that Nagisa wasn't even phased by anymore, having three older sisters; fists on hips, chest thrust forward, lips puckered into a severe pout. 

“There is no possible way you could understand this, Nagisa.” She scoffed. “A man's muscles represent his masculinity, his raw power, his pure virility! An innocent maiden such as myself cannot help but swoon in the presence of such chiseled abs!” 

Nagisa rolled his eyes and giggled into his hand. “What, and you think an innocent bisexual such as _myself_ is completely immune? But I'm not drooling on everything! Self-control is very important, Gou-chan, you really should work on your--”

“You _what_?” Gou interrupted suddenly, all pretenses dropped in favor of shock and genuine curiosity. “No, no way, you're lying to me, right? Haha, funny Nagisa?” 

Now Nagisa pouted, just as over-the-top as Gou had been, he hoped. “Gou-chan is so cruel, putting me down when I'm baring my deepest, darkest secret to her!” 

“Oh my god, you aren't kidding.”

“No,” Nagisa agreed. “And congratulations! I've known since I was eleven but you're the first person I've ever told.” 

Gou hesitated, and Nagisa started to feel his stomach tighten as he waited for her response. He was pretty sure she'd take it well; that was why he'd chosen to tell her first, after all, before any of the guys. But she could always surprise him...

“You found out when you were eleven, huh? That's around when you were swimming with my brother and those guys, wasn't it? Was your first crush on one of them?” 

“One? Aha... mmm, more like all three! Haru-chan lent me his swimsuit when my sisters switched it with a girl's one, and Rin-chan let me join their relay team, and it's impossible not to have a crush on Mako-chan.”

Gou smiled, and then punched him in the shoulder. “I should have expected that from someone as greedy and selfish as you. But, still, it is pretty cute...”

She trailed off, but then looked at him with a sharp glint in her eye. “Hmmm. So then, the fact that you've been all over Rei for the past two and a half years is...?” 

Nagisa clapped his hands over her mouth; Rei was a few yards away, attempting to comfort an anxious first year. 

“Don't you dare bring this up with Rei-chan. He's going to freak out no matter what!” 

Gou pushed his hand away and shook her head. “I wasn't going to tell him. Obviously _you_ need to be the one to tell him. As soon as possible, before he graduates and moves on to a successful life and you end up... wherever you're going to end up.” 

“Hey!” 

Gou giggled. “Rei is pretty cute, until he opens his mouth and the anal-retentive comes out. So I guess I'm rooting for you. But so help me God, if you become one of those sappy affectionate couples who are constantly sucking face where I can see you, I'll–” 

“Nagisa-kun, Gou-san, they're calling for the 100 meter breaststroke, what are you waiting for?” Rei's voice interrupted them, as he prodded Nagisa to follow their first year breaststroke swimmer down to the poolside. Nagisa turned around to stick his tongue out at Gou, who in turn was shooting him daggers with her eyes. 

“Try not to lose too badly, Nagisa!” She cried out in an innocent voice. Nagisa laughed, and vowed to beat his best time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [twitter](https://twitter.com/haikyuutiie) | [tumblr](http://zahhaked.tumblr.com)


	6. Daichi/Yui + "girls' team makes Nationals"

The image of the final scoreboard against Shiratorizawa was so engraved into Daichi's mind that he still saw it on the backs of his lids when he shut his eyes. It felt surreal; whatever physical exhaustion had come from playing a 5-set match, whatever emotional exhaustion had come from the past three years of confidence, even when self-assuredness seemed like stupidity, none of that mattered because they had finally realized their dream. 

Daichi was the last student to board the bus. He scanned the seats, the array of smiles and yawns and laughter that filled the small space to the brim. This was the team that took him to Nationals. 

And he had the honor of being their Captain. 

Suga laughed and pulled Daichi down into the window seat beside him, clapping him on the back, the shoulders, touching him like he wasn't sure this was reality. Daichi himself wasn't sure it was reality, up to and including the parts where Takeda gave his moving speech, and Ukai grunted that he was proud of them. The reality set in slowly as the bus started moving, and brought with it weariness. They weren't going to cry into their dinner this time. They were going to sleep on the bus, rest easily because they were Miyagi's champions. 

It was a small, niggling voice in the back of mind that reminded him, _The girls' team!_ Daichi wrestled to keep sleep at bay long enough to text Michimiya, then tucked his phone into his pocket and sank right into unconsciousness. 

– 

By the time they got back to Karasuno, it was well after the end of the school day, and the sinking Sun had the sky painted in shades of pink and orange. After embarrassing themselves by sleeping through the celebratory dinner Ukai treated them too, and the rest they got on the bus ride, the team filed off of the bus with renewed energy; the first thing Tanaka did after getting off the bus was launch Nishinoya into the air. 

“Don't break him, we still need him for Nationals!” Daichi barked, but not without a grin because damn if that didn't feel good to say. 

“Daichi,” Suga called for attention, nudging him in the side. When Daichi looked over, Suga was pointing to the school wall, where Michimiya was absolutely beaming. Daichi quickly remembered his phone, the message, the girls' Miyagi finals at the same time as theirs. 

He didn't remember his feet carrying him to meet her halfway, but there she was; right in front of him, glowing and just a little breathless. 

“Congratulations, boys' team!” She cheered with a broad grin. “You beat Ushiwaka!” 

“And the girls?” Daichi asked quickly, feeling as breathless as Michimiya looked. “You won?” 

Michimiya winked, and held up four fingers. “In four sets! My girls really pulled through!” 

“That's incredible,” he praised, his hands gently falling on either of her biceps. “But don't downplay the work you did as their Captain.” 

“And the same goes for you,” Michimiya laughed. She prodded him in the chest with a finger, then let her palm splay open. “Our second set was terrible, and I started to wonder if maybe we wouldn't be able to pull through... but then I heard your voice in my head telling me it was important never to give up hope.”

“So what you're saying is, I can take credit for both of today's victories,” Daichi smirked. Michimiya laughed again, airy and bright.

“What I'm _saying_ is, I owe it all to you, Daichi.”

Then, before he could tell her off for thinking of it that way when she put just as much hard work into it as he did, before he could say or do anything, Michimiya's hands were on Daichi's shoulders as leverage to pull herself up and kiss him. It was a short, fleeting thing, a shock to his lips and his entire system. It was over before Daichi even knew it was happening. 

And yet somehow, the entire boys' volleyball team burst out cheering and clapping, and there were a pair of wolf-whistles that had to be the troublesome second-years. Michimiya, suddenly realizing they were all still there, went bright pink. Daichi chuckled. 

“Next time, let's do that without an audience.” 

“Mmm. N-Next time, let's do that at Nationals.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [twitter](https://twitter.com/haikyuutiie) | [tumblr](http://zahhaked.tumblr.com)


	7. Asahi/Sugawara + "how long will it take for him to get that i'm flirting?"

Sugawara Koushi wasn't sure what to make of Azumane-san when they first met; he was a fellow first year who was a whole head taller than him, which frustratingly emphasized Suga's lack of verticality, but he also stumbled over his introduction to the team and ended up biting on his tongue on “ _Hajimemashite_ ,” which was hilarious. 

It took about a week of practices until Suga was certain he had a good idea of who Asahi was: a sheep in lion's clothing, a beast on the court who bowed his head shamefully around senpai that were shorter and less talented than he was, who had no idea what to do with praise and insisted everyone use his first-name because his family name felt like a mantle he didn't deserve to wear. Asahi's lack of self-respect got under Suga's skin like a bad itch, and he wasn't the only one; judging by how often Daichi slapped him on the back and told him to straighten up, Asahi was a team problem. Or, given their apathetic, jaded senpai, a first-year trio problem. 

The worst part was that he wasn't doing it out of humility, and he definitely wasn't fishing for more praise. Asahi seemed to genuinely disbelieve that he was good at anything except for, in his own words, “hitting a ball really hard.” And even though that was the entire _point_ of a wing spiker, even though he was the only first year to make the team's starting roster, Asahi seemed more afraid of his power than proud. 

Actually, the real worst part was that despite all of this, the Eeyore cloud of darkness that constantly hovered him, Asahi was _so nice_ to be around. He was accommodating. He was incredibly fun to tease, to watch as his cheeks went pink and he tried to figure out if the banter was serious or not, and his attempts at a comeback were adorable with a stutter and a heavy set brow. He was easily spooked, and only ticklish in a few places on his body that Suga made a game of discovering. 

He was criminally underrated in the looks department. The other girls in Suga's class often passed right over him when rating the boys in their year, because his haircut made his head look too big, and he had a terrifying resting face. Which was a shame, because Suga thought it might be funny to watch Asahi react to being flirted with by a cute girl, too; the closest he ever came to any girl was their manager Shimizu, and she was a real ice princess. 

But, Suga supposed if the girls in their year were going to overlook a diamond in the rough, he'd have to pick up the slack. Three months into the semester he started flirting in earnest: letting his hands roam over Asahi's back, pretending he didn't know where the ticklish spots were so that he had an excuse for touching him. Brushing sweaty locks of hair away from his face after intense blocking practice and clucking his tongue playfully at how long Asahi was letting it get. Reminding him that he was their only hope, their first-year representative on the court, and that he trusted Asahi to make him look good.

Daichi pulled him aside two weeks later and asked if maybe he wasn't pushing Asahi a little too much, if the teasing wasn't becoming a little more skinship than their big baby could handle. Suga plainly looked Daichi in the eye and told him he wasn't going to stop until his mouth got up close and personal with Asahi's, and Daichi turned a delicious shade of red before kindly asking that he not break him; they'd need him in two years' time, probably. 

With that blessing, Suga shifted gears; “Operation Get Asahi's Flustered Attention” became “Operation Win Asahi's Flustered Affection.” The teasing touches and lofty, almost sarcastic praise stayed, but slowly Suga started to incorporate some new tactics: fingers brushing fingers as they reached into the ball cart, followed by a sheepish apology from Suga; confidence-boosting pep talks before matches that ended with firm smiles, a show of unwavering faith in Asahi's ability; soft, molten core smiles and giggles whenever Asahi sat up a little straighter or snatched his stolen porkbun back from Daichi. 

And it was working. Suga wasn't cocky, but he was self-aware and he had a good sense of how other people felt about him; Asahi was giving him more dazed looks, speaking in softer tones around him, meeting his gaze less but standing closer to him. But he _wasn't saying anything about it_. 

Daichi hit a breaking point before Asahi did, on an afternoon in the early fall when they'd opted to have their lunches outside by the gym to sneak in more practice after they finished eating. Suga reached up with his chopsticks and picked a grain of rice off of Asahi's top lip, then pressed it atop Asahi's tongue when he parted his lips in surprise. That was when Daichi stood up so suddenly, his schoolbag fell out of his lap with a thud. 

“Asahi, if you value my sanity even the smallest bit, _please_ , do something about Suga's libido.” 

Asahi, who'd already been breathing heavily from having Suga's chopsticks in his mouth, pretty much started hyperventilating. Daichi scooped up his bag and gave Suga a very pointed look, then headed for the gym without another word. 

“Asahi?” 

Asahi was still trying to get his breathing under control, but at least his gaze darted towards Suga for a moment; acknowledgement. Suga continued, “You know, you don't actually have to do anything about my libido... I mean, not the part in my pants. But it's definitely not fair that you haven't acknowledged me flirting with you even _once_!” 

“T-That was all flirting??” Asahi stammered, sounding almost angry about it. Suga was confused by the reaction, but pressed on.

“Of course. What did you think it was?” 

“I thought – I dunno, it's stupid.” Asahi looked down at his hands, gave a huff that was way too cute and tiny for such a big body. “I thought you were trying some kind of positive-reinforcement thing to make me less anxious. My mom does stuff like that. The lit up smiles when I stand up for myself, and stuff...” 

“So what you're saying is... you thought I wanted to be your mom?” 

Asahi looked sheepish and wide-eyed, even verging on scared. “Not... exactly. But something like that.” 

“You. Big. Dummy.” Suga laughed, punctuating each word with a jab at Asahi's chest (and God, were 15 year olds allowed to have _pecs_?). “I don't want to be your _mom_. I want to be your 'person who has a free card to touch and kiss you when and however.' Your boyfriend.” 

“M-my... boyfriend...” Asahi's face resembled a cook lobster in hue. “Oh god Suga, I messed up.” 

“You did,” Suga agreed, petting his red cheek. It was giving off such alarming heat, and Suga wanted to laugh so hard. “But you can fix it, can't you?” 

“I can...?” Asahi trailed off, and Suga pointed to his lips, offering a hint. Asahi squeaked, which Suga took to mean he understood, and then he followed it up by planting his hand by Suga's hip and leaning in.

When Asahi froze, Suga decided he'd gotten enough out of him for the day, and closed the gap between their lips himself.


	8. Aone/Hinata + "skinny dipping"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter features some non-sexual nudity of teenaged characters, including references to genitalia.

Shouyou hadn't known that there was a pool in the Aone backyard. Actually, he hadn't known too much about the personal life of his new friend; everything he knew was more about Takanobu's daily life, the sorts of things friends sent each other text messages about. Although he didn't look like the type, Takanobu was a great texter. 

And their relationship had grown that way for months, a simple daily back and forth about school, volleyball (with great care to protect what Shouyou called “team secrets”), and the minimal lives they had in between. Shouyou learned that Takanobu liked taking pictures of strays, especially dogs, so he forwarded along the really cute cats that Kenma sent him photos of from Tokyo. He learned that Koganegawa really liked memes, so he usually had to get Tanaka-senpai or Nishinoya-senpai to explain them to him, so that he could explain them to Takanobu. It was important to Shouyou that Takanobu form good relationships with his teammates. 

It was a surprise when Takanobu invited him to spend the night, just under a year after they'd started texting. His parents were going to be away for his father's business, he wrote, so they would have the entire house to themselves. Shouyou initial response was to wonder if Takanobu wouldn't rather have his team over, given those amazing circumstances, but Takanobu insisted he'd rather not deal with that kind of tornado contained in his home. Just one friend, just Shouyou, was enough. 

“I didn't know there was a pool in your backyard!” Shouyou gasped, his hands pressed to the glass sliding door in the kitchen. “Why didn't you tell me?” 

Takanobu looked away from the microwave, where he'd been watching their food go around with something like the tunnel vision he got on the court. 

“I didn't think about it,” he replied. “Do you like swimming, Shouyou?” 

“I love it! Oh, but I didn't bring anything to swim in. Damn, it would have felt really good on a warm night like tonight...” 

Shouyou trailed off, and when he looked back at Takanobu he was struck by how guilty his friend looked. He realized belatedly how he'd made him sound like a pretty bad host, or at least negligent? Or something. The microwave started beeping, and Takanobu attended to it, while Shouyou tried to figure a way to see his friend smile again. 

“OH!” He squealed, and Takanobu dropped the plate of reheated curry onto the counter in his shock. “We could go skinny dipping! I saw it in a movie once. It's like going into an onsen, except the water won't be hot. It'll still feel nice on our skin with cool water, I bet!” 

“Skinny... dipping...?” Takanobu echoed uneasily. Shouyou nodded enthusiastically. 

“Swimming without clothes on. It's the perfect solution! Erm, I mean, unless you don't want to go swimming, because that's fine too! I bet you planned other cool stuff for us to do tonight.” 

Takanobu's cheeks were a little pink, and with his pale skin and white hair, it stood out all the more. Shouyou thought it was pretty cute, but he didn't want to point it out and embarrass him further. He was probably already asking a lot. It's not like they were at a public bath, where that kind of thing would have been socially acceptable.

“It... It sounds fun,” is what Takanobu answered instead, and Shouyou could only hope he wasn't lying for his benefit. “Are we still going to eat first?”

–

They did eat first, and Shouyou helped Takanobu clean the dishes when they were done. There was still a little twilight in the sky, so Shouyou agreed to play some video games before they went outside; it would probably be much less embarrassing for them both if they went out when it was really, really dark. 

The anticipation had been building the entire time, and so when the sky was a black canvas dotted with stars and a slivered moon, the two of them slipped out of the back door with towels wrapped around their clothed bodies. Shouyou was giggling, and Takanobu... he wasn't laughing, exactly, but there was a crookedness to his smile that Shouyou strained to make out in the dark. 

They waited until they were beside the pool to undress; Shouyou insisted that was the skinny dipping protocol, based on the movies he'd seen. It wasn't too hard for him to pull his clothes off in front of a friend, not when he did so on a daily basis in the club room, but he wondered about Takanobu's body, which he'd never seen. It probably looked a lot like Asahi-san's, or Tanaka-senpai's, even though he was a middle blocker and not a wing spiker. He was big and broad and strong, so he had to have a lot of muscle. 

Suddenly, Shouyou felt grateful for the cover of night hiding his scrawny, lean body. 

Takanobu was folding his clothes into a neat pile, and Shouyou watched his outline move, illuminated mostly by the light affixed to the outside of the house. He was definitely muscled; his arms looked like a diagram in an anatomy textbook. 

“Are we going to jump in?” Takanobu asked, drawing himself upright again; his legs were chisled, too, judging by the shadows there. Shouyou caught himself trying to make out the size and shape of Takanobu's penis, and he looked away quickly when he became aware of it. He didn't want Takanobu trying to look at his privates... did he? 

A question for another time. “Yes. On my mark... Now!”

Shouyou cannon-balled into the pool, and Takanobu jumped in a moment later. Just as Shouyou had hoped, the cool water felt great against his warm skin, cut right through the humidity that hung in the early night air. He laughed and splashed Takanobu, and then laughed even louder when he was splashed back, locks of hair falling over his face. It felt liberating to be in cool water without swim shorts, and exhilarating to know that Takanobu was in the same state. Shouyou moved a little closer to his friend, though still not close enough to touch, just to relish in sharing his space. Takanobu was looking down at him, and his expression looked soft; it made Shouyou wish that more people took the time to get to know him, instead of fearing him based on their first impression. 

And then he took the opportunity to splash him in the face.


	9. Aone/Asahi + "sitting together"

Rare were the days that Asahi had to take the train; he had chosen Karasuno High School in large part because it was close enough to walk to and from his house. And aside from school, and by extension the volleyball club, he didn't really have a social life, or a reason to leave his neighborhood. That was the lifestyle Asahi was content with: a routine that was easy to follow but kept him busy. 

So when he did have to take the train, on the days when his mother sent him to his Aunt's shop in the next town over for specialty groceries, there was always a sense of anxiety that lingered in his fingertips, that made him jump at every stop just to double check it wasn't his. The trains weren't even that bad, and Asahi hated the knowledge that he was worried about absolutely nothing.

On that particular Sunday, as he waited on the platform and willed himself to breath like a normal human being and not a man who'd been pursued by a bear, Asahi repeated the mantra in his mind, ' _Nothing bad is going to happen, nothing bad is going to happen..._ '

When the train arrived, he stepped into the car before him without peeking inside first; by the time he noticed how empty it was, the doors had already shut. An empty train car could be a curse in disguise; usually there was some bad smell in them that made people switch, or the air conditioning was malfunctioning– 

Or there was a face that had featured in some of Asahi's recent nightmares, with a bench entirely to himself while the rest of the car's passengers kept their distance. Perhaps it was unfair to say that his _face_ was the nightmarish part; actually, his face itself rarely appeared in Asahi's dream. But he was unmistakable, the white-haired, eyebrow-less middle blocker that made up a third of Dateko's Iron Wall. 

Asahi's gaze immediately darted down to his rival's lap, where his fingers were fidgeting absently. It was his hands that Asahi dreamt about. The hands that seemed to grow right above the net, encompassing the space right up to the ceiling, dwarfing Asahi and the court beneath their sheer size. Those hands had, in reality, caused so much more devastation than they knew: the blow out between Asahi and Nishinoya that led to Asahi abandoning his club activities and Nishinoya's month-long suspension, along with Suga's worries and Daichi's stress. 

Those hands were attached to a boy who was looking down in his lap, meeting no one's gaze. Asahi was no expert on social situations, but he'd been judged enough times by his appearance to understand what was going on. Much in the same way that women pulled their children closer to them when he walked past them on the street, Dateko-san's rough look made it so that no one wanted to sit beside him. 

Asahi took a deep breath, forcing out the anxiety and focusing on the sympathy (or was it empathy? Suga was always getting on his case about using the wrong words). If no one wanted to sit next to Dateko-san because he looked like a delinquent, then it was up to Asahi, similarly mistaken for some kind of thug, to be the one to break that pattern. 

He took careful, measured steps, not wanting the rocking of the train in motion to send him flying off of his feet. He sat down beside Dateko-san, leaving a few centimeters between them since he could afford it. 

And then Asahi spoke to him. 

“You... You are part of Dateko's Iron Wall, right? I'm sorry, I don't remember your name... I'm Azumane Asahi. I play for Karasuno...” 

As Asahi trailed off, Dateko-san was looking at him incredulously. It was fascinating, how even with such faint, barely-there eyebrows, his expression was able to communicate so much. He stared at Asahi long past the point of comfort, to where Asahi could feel the incomprehensible stammering heavy on the tip of his tongue. 

“I remember you,” Dateko-san agreed simply. “You're Karasuno's Ace. We played in last year's Spring High and again in the Inter-High. We didn't get to face you in the Spring High again,” he added with a small frown. “I'm Aone Takanobu.” 

“Azumane Asahi,” he introduced himself, before realizing, “wait, I already said that.” 

Aone-san turned away, but Asahi thought he saw a hint of a smile tugging on his face. Was he being laughed at?!

“Karasuno is a strong team. We were looking forward to playing you again. And you... you put up a strong fight in the last Spring High. I remember that.” 

Asahi hadn't particularly wanted to have that match be brought up. Especially when he was fairly certain they only managed to defeat Dateko the second time because of Hinata and Kageyama, and not their Ace. But there was nothing cruel in Aone-san's voice, neither apologetic for the beatdown, nor cocky about the victory. If anything, Asahi thought it might be... a compliment. 

The train pulled into another station, and Aone-san got to his feet. “Thank you for sitting beside me, Azumane-san. I hope I'll get to play another match against you, someday.” 

Asahi was dumbstruck, enough that he barely found time to nod before Aone-san was already stepping onto the platform. 

Maybe trains were worth reconsidering.


	10. Iwaizumi & Kageyama + "come to Seijou"

Kageyama was not the first person to notice Iwaizumi-san's presence on the Kitagawa Daiichi court; that was Kindaichi, who shouted the alumnus' name and drew Kageyama out of his isolated serving practice. Kageyama looked over for a moment, rolling the volleyball in his hands, as he watched the rest of the third years rush over to their former senpai with fond, if not delighted, greetings. 

Kageyama tore his gaze away from the sight, took a deep breath, and gave another jump serve. The ball had too much spin on it, that time; in his mind's eye, he watched it float right down into the forearms of the other team's libero. He scoffed at himself angrily; he hadn't been scouted by Shiratorizawa like he'd hoped, but that was no reason for Kageyama to have lost so much control. 

Just as he turned to reach into the ball cart for another attempt, a hand on his wrist stopped him. Kageyama's gaze darted up immediately. No one on the team touched him anymore; the first and second years all but avoided him, and his classmates kept their distance with cool tones and distasteful nicknames. Even the coaches looked at him sometimes like they were ready to throw in the towel. 

He followed the arm up to Iwaizumi-san's frowning face, and hesitated. What had happened to the crowd of people that had swallowed him up? Why wasn't he still talking to them, when they'd been the ones who were happy to see him?

“Your jump serve is looking a lot better,” Iwaizumi-san said carefully, like he thought Kageyama was made of glass. “But I guess I haven't seen it in two years, so that's to be expected. If you have a minute, though, I want to talk to you.” 

Iwaizumi-san looked over Kageyama's shoulder, and when Kageyama turned, it was just in time to see Kunimi and Kindaichi looking away. 

“In private,” Iwaizumi-san added. 

– 

They ended up outside of the school, by Kageyama's favorite vending machine. He wasn't sure if Iwaizumi-san knew about all that, or if it was just a coincidence, but it was a familiar, secluded place, so Kageyama felt better about being there. He was curious as to why Iwaizumi-san had come all the way there seemingly just to talk to him, but wasn't sure how to phrase the question so that it didn't sound rude.

Fortunately, Iwaizumi-san wasn't waiting for an opening. “Do you know where you're going for high school yet, Kageyama? Have you heard from any scouts?” 

“No scouts,” he answered bitterly, thinking about the excitement in Coach's voice when he professed certainty in Kageyama's being recruited somewhere. That was before. “But I plan on going to Shiratorizawa. I'm going to take the entrance exam next month.” 

“Shiratorizawa... that's a tough school to get into,” Iwaizumi-san said. “Their entrance exam is difficult, but even after that, you would have to convince their coach to give you a try-out, and he doesn't usually make exceptions.” 

Kageyama had heard this all before. “He will for me,” he replied tersely. 

Iwaizumi-san sighed. “Kageyama, listen... if things had gone well during the last match of the tournament, I'm positive they would have scouted you by now. But that's not what happened. And the coach there, he saw that match. He knows exactly who you are... and he'll see you as a liability.”

“So, what, you think I should give up? That match was a fluke! I can be better than that!” 

Iwaizumi-san put his hands up wordlessly. He seemed to be waiting, and when Kageyama realized how shallowly he was breathing, he stood upright and exhaled deep and slow. 

“I know you can be better than that. I remember how you were two years ago; you were incredible in whatever position Coach put you in. And your tosses were amazing for someone your age. They still are. That's why I'm asking you to come to Seijou.”

“To... to Aoba Johsai?” 

Kageyama couldn't go to Seijou. Kindaichi and Kunimi were going there, he overheard them talking about the entrance exams when they were supposed to be running. And– 

“Does Oikawa-san know you're here?” Kageyama asked hesitantly. He remembered a fist flying towards his face, a snot-nosed promise to beat him. 

Iwaizumi-san's expression darkened, and he frowned. “No. But even though he might complain, he would know that I'm right. In order for our team to be the strongest, we need the best players. And that includes you, Kageyama. I'll kick Shittykawa's ass until he takes you in as a proper kouhai if I have to.”

Imagining that nearly brought a smile to Kageyama's face, but he bit down on the inside of his cheeks until that impulse was gone. 

“I can't go to Seijou,” he answered firmly. “As much as I respect you, Iwaizumi-san, and as much as I'm honored that you came all this way to invite me, I know I don't belong there. And I think you know that too.” 

Aoba Johsai was the school that most of Kitagawa Daiichi's players moved up to. After the rejection he faced on the court during the tournament finals, it was clear that Kageyama wasn't welcome among them, now or ever again. 

Iwaizumi-san sighed. “I understand why you feel this way. And I don't really know if I can change your mind about this. But for what it's worth, Kageyama, I would be happy to be your teammate again. So just keep Seijou in mind.” 

Kageyama knew in his gut that he would never go to Seijou. But for the sake of Iwaizumi-san and the humility he showed him, he wasn't going to fight him about it. 

“Thank you, Iwaizumi-san.” 

Iwaizumi-san nodded, and then turned back.


	11. Kageyama/Kunimi + "never seen your smile"

Kageyama had never seen Kunimi's smile. He hadn't even realized that he'd never seen it until the day he actually saw it, as plain on his face as his boredom ever was. 

Smiles were a sore subject for Kageyama, who was often called out by his new teammates for having a creepy, vaguely-demonic looking grin. He often wondered if it was the sort of thing that just came naturally to some people and not others. And without even thinking about it, when faced with Kunimi's broad grin, Kageyama realized he'd always assumed Kunimi had the same problem he did. 

Kindaichi had always been the emotional one of the three of them, the one who wore his heart on his sleeve; even Kageyama could tell when he was acting strangely around a specific girl in their class. Annoyance, relief, anger, joy – it didn't matter if the emotion was positive or negative, Kindaichi was just that transparent. And Kageyama could relate to a lack of control over his emotions, though in his case it seemed the only thing he could express to others was his frustration, his anger. 

Kunimi was different from them – stone-faced, aloof, and stoic. Kageyama had never seen him smile, and so he assumed that was because Kunimi never smiled, that nothing could ever make him. Least of all volleyball, which he seemed to do with such reluctance that at times Kageyama wondered why he even showed up to practice at all. 

And then there it was, just on the opposite side of the net; Kunimi in a huddle with his teammates, a smile on his face. It seemed gentle, somehow, unlike the grins that squinted Hinata's eyes. Pleasant, easy-going, soft... a lot like Kunimi himself. The qualities that Kageyama had despised about him on the court now lingered on his mind well after the match, and the tournament, were well and gone. 

It took too many months for Kageyama to realize that he yearned to be the one to put that smile on Kunimi's face. It took a Miyagi training camp during Golden Week of his second year, with glimpses of Kunimi smiling to himself at some comment Aoba Johsai's libero made at their breakfast table, of smug smirks when his spike thwarted a block, of one intimate smile directed at Kindaichi's back that Kageyama definitely wasn't meant to see. 

For over a year he had been mourning the loss of the respect of his teammates, the only friends he came close to having; now Kageyama was mourning the people, the person, Kunimi Akira. Mourning the friendship that could have been. 

He froze in the doorway of the men's room one night of the training camp, when he saw Kunimi washing his face at the sink. Kunimi looked up at the sound of the door opening, and their eyes met in the mirror. 

“Were... Have you been crying?” Kageyama asked tactlessly. And he knew it was rude, but he couldn't just ignore it, either. Besides, Kunimi had already seen and expected the worst of him. 

As expected, Kunimi didn't answer, and turned back to the sink to finish what he was doing. Kageyama fought back a huff and entered the bathroom properly. He hesitated when he was close enough to Kunimi to feel the heat coming off of his back.

“For what it's worth, which probably isn't all that much coming from me, um. Your smile is. N-Nice. And you should do that more.” 

Without waiting for an answer, Kageyama hustled into one of the stalls and held his breath until he heard the sound of footsteps moving away, ending with the opening and closing of the bathroom door.


	12. Rei & Haruka + "cooking together"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic was based on [this image](https://p.dreamwidth.org/64fd4bf225eb/-/img1.ak.crunchyroll.com/i/spire2/2cb479252d4164544829c9a78f7b88d51377727109_full.jpg), one of the Free! season one end card where Haruka is feeding Rei.

At any given moment in time there were a great number of thoughts going through Rei's mind. His mind was an active one, and also an anxious one, which meant that in between all of the calculations and to-do lists and memorization exercises, there were worries. About upcoming exams, about swim meets and his lacking butterfly stroke, about Nagisa-kun's confounding fascination with his glasses, or his deodorant, or his body hair, or what Nagisa-kun might decide to be fascinated by next – 

And Rei was certainly concerned by Haruka-senpai's seemingly all-mackerel diet. 

He didn't think much of it at first, until Makoto-senpai complained that “Haru grills mackerel for breakfast pretty much every morning, and sometimes he takes so long to eat it that we end up late for homeroom!” And then he started tallying up how often mackerel appeared in Haruka-senpai's lunch (literally every day that his lunch wasn't made by Tachibana-san – alarming), and how often it was what Haruka-senpai insisted dinner would be if they stayed at his home after practice. With no adult supervision, it seemed as if Haruka-senpai had become one of those teenagers living out a childhood dream to eat nothing but his favorite food, meal in and meal out. And, while there definitely worse foods that it could have been, there was no way he was getting in all the nutrients his body needed if he was only eating one type of food. 

“Haruka-senpai, there is absolutely no way your body is getting in all the nutrients it needs if you are eating nothing but mackerel!” He declared one rooftop lunchtime, so definitively that Makoto-senpai nearly dropped his bento box. “I am not much of a cook myself, but if it isn't any imposition, I could teach you a few simple recipes that would widely broaden your culinary and nutritional horizons.”

Haruka-senpai slowly looked up from his simple rice-and-mackerel lunch, and then he shrugged. “It's fine by me. As long as you let me teach you how to make something, too.” 

–

And so Rei found himself in Haruka-senpai's kitchen, wearing a spare apron over his school uniform, watching as his upperclassman showed him the proper way to filet a fish. Haruka-senpai's hands were almost as mesmerizing as his form in the water, and his explanations were simple and succinct. Rei wondered if Haruka-senpai had a hidden talent in cooking, or if it was specifically the relationship between fish, water, and Haruka-senpai that made him seem expert at this. While his stew cooked away, Rei was given the chance to teach Haruka-senpai how to blanch vegetables for maximum vitamin retention and taste, and even though he didn't seem entirely interested, Haruka-senpai did compliment the sweetness of the carrots, which Rei supposed was as good as he was going to get. 

Suddenly, there was chopsticks under his nose, with a flaky piece of fish between them. Rather than an overwhelmingly fishy smell, Rei detected a good amount of seasoning and herbs, and he rather shyly opened his mouth, feeling just a little skittish as his esteemed friend and senpai fed him.

“How does it taste?” Haruka-senpai asked softly, and Rei was beginning to feel the heat of the pot bubbling beneath them up in his cheeks. 

“It's delicious, of course, Haruka-senpai,” he praised quickly, but then cleared his throat. “Ehm. But that's no excuse to have it for _every meal_ –“

“It's good enough for me,” Haruka-senpai countered, taking a bite of his own from the same chopsticks (!!) and smiling contentedly. “But the vegetables aren't so bad. They would go well with the mackerel...” 

“Yes,” Rei agreed in something of a daze. “Yes, they would...”


	13. Sawamura Eijun/Tire-chan + "The True OTP of Daiya No Ace"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a personal favorite of mine for the sheer hilarity. The prompt for this was [this image](https://pbs.twimg.com/media/Cg99jRgWMAEP3jE.jpg).

Fitting in at a new school was difficult enough when you weren't a southpaw pitcher with a lot to prove in a pool of dozens of other wannabe-pitchers vying for your spot on the team. And having a guardian Devil in the form of a bastard named Miyuki Kazuya was no help in the endeavor, either; it was thanks to him that Eijun was stuck running while everyone else actually got to practice.

The only brightside to all of this was Tire-chan. 

It took Eijun a few days to meet Tire-chan, when his own stamina provided to be too much for him to have anything to gain from just running. At first he simply dragged her behind him, but looking back on that now it was hard for him to accept just how poorly he'd treated his best companion here at Seido. And Tire-chan was so forgiving, so patient with him even after everything that he put her through...

Not to mention, she was the perfect fit for him. Just big enough that he could hoist her up over his hips, but not so big that she was an overweight rubber hula hoop around his waist. Sure, he had to hold her up, but that was what relationships were all about – mutual love, affection, and support. 

And they all said he wouldn't learn anything if he wasn't paying attention in class? Pah! Here he was, less than a month into his first year of high school, and Eijun had already learned the meaning of true love! True love was a hug that didn't suffocate, a partner that didn't hold you back but instead pushed you to better yourself, a rubber tire that –

A rubber tire that Furuya was taking from the equipment shed?!

“Stop right there!” Eijun demanded, as he attempted to channel some of Miyauchi-senpai's intensity and make steam come out of his nose. (It didn't work, and Eijun made a mental note to ask his senpai for some coaching on the matter.)

Furuya blinked slowly, still holding onto Tire-chan, and looked at Eijun like he was insane. And maybe he was insane! Love made people crazy, right? 

“How dare you try and defile my sweet, innocent Tire-chan!” 

Furuya looked befuddled. He lifted the tire up a little and asked, “Are you talking about this?” 

Eijun seized the opportunity to snatch back his Tire-chan. When she was safely in his arms, he sighed in relief and hugged her to his chest.

“Go find your own girlfriend, Furuya!” He huffed, before securing Tire-chan around his waist and stomping off for his morning run. 

For as long as he was a student at Seido, Eijun wasn't going to let anyone else take Tire-chan from him. Maybe when he was a senior, if he won Coach Kataoka's favor by then, he could even take her away to be his bride.


	14. Sousuke/Nitori + "gym buddies"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prompt for this fill was [link text](http://i.imgur.com/tU6XmYt.jpg) this image, an endcard from Free! season two where Sousuke is spotting a freeweight for Nitori.

Sousuke had applied to Samezuka Academy with one simple intention from which he planned never to deviate: to spend as long as he could swimming with Rin before his shoulder completely gave out on him. 

He knew it was foolhardy, knew that with time and therapy that same shoulder could heal. Never to its original state, and probably too late given his Olympic aspirations, but it would heal and he would be able to swim into adulthood. But to Sousuke, as long as his Olympic dreams were out of the picture, the only other thing he wanted was to swim with his best friend. And he wasn't going to let anything distract him from that – 

“A-Ah, Yamazaki-senpai, can I have a minute?” 

Nitori. Rin's ex-roommate, the poor kid who was saddled with Mikoshiba and his pet beetles. Sousuke generally felt bad for the kid; he pushed himself incredibly hard and often saw so few results for his efforts. It was kind of pathetic. 

It was kind of endearing. 

Sousuke paused outside of his and Rin's dorm room and looked down at his mousey underclassman, tried not to think about how ever since he'd figured out he was gay his “type” personified was Nitori. He hummed in acknowledgement and waited. 

“I... I was just wondering... I thought that maybe if I used the gym equipment to build some muscle, my stamina and stroke would improve... But I don't really know anything about using gym equipment. A-And Rin-senpai once said you spend a lot of time there, so...” 

There was a drawn out silence as the unspoken question hung in the air between them. Sousuke felt frustrated with himself for letting it come to this, for having taken pity on Nitori before and having offered to coach him. He came to Samezuka to swim with Rin, to _be_ with Rin, before Rin's future carried him out of reach. 

“Alright,” Sousuke found himself saying despite this. “I'm not busy now, so let's go.” 

Nitori seemed a little surprised, in the way he suddenly snapped upright. Damn, he was such a rigid kid. “R-Right now? I mean, that's fine! I just thought, you look kind of tired, Yamazaki-senpai –“

“Don't worry about it,” Sousuke said flippantly, trying not to think about the whoosh in his stomach that Nitori had apparently noted his exhaustion. “If you're ready, I'm ready.” 

– 

The walk down to the school's weight room was marked by long periods of silence interspersed with rapid-fire flustered thanks coming from Nitori, no matter how many times Sousuke insisted the thanks wasn't necessary. It was almost a relief when they actually finished changing in the locker room and headed towards the heavy equipment. 

“You should focus on building stamina by doing cardio exercises,” Sousuke started, heading for the first empty bench. “Running is good for that, and the ellipticals. And you won't want to build too much muscle, because that will make you less buoyant than you're used to.” He paused and considered this. “Though you probably could afford to build _some_ muscle. Especially in your arms and chest.” 

It took Sousuke a moment to realize that Nitori wasn't behind him as he had assumed; he was standing closer to the doorway, obviously shaking. Sousuke sighed.

“If you were nervous about it, why did you want to come to the weight room?” 

“To keep up with you and Rin-senpai!” Nitori answered readily. “I need to be good enough to be on the medley relay team. Otherwise I'll just be holding you back, and I'll never get to swim with Rin-senpai again.” 

Sousuke couldn't look Nitori in the eyes for very long, not with how fervent and expressive they were. He shut his eyes and sighed, then opened them again and gestured for Nitori to come over.

“Well, there's nothing to worry about, anyways. All of the machines are foolproof, as long as you don't try over-exerting yourself. And as for the free weights, I'll be your spotter.” 

“Spotter?”

Sousuke stood behind the bench and tapped it, gesturing for Nitori to lie on it. He did so carefully, and then looked up; his eyes were wide and looked like literal pools of water, with their crystal blue color. Sousuke had to be careful, to resist diving in. 

“See this barbell?” Sousuke put his hands on the bar resting in it's holder above Nitori's shoulders. “I'm going to put the smallest possible amount of weight on it. 2 kilograms on each side. You put your hands on it here and here,” he took each of Nitori's hands in turn and placed them properly on the bar. “And you're going to take it off the support and start bench pressing it. I'll keep my hands on it too,” he added, placing both of his hands under the bar between Nitori's, touching it but not supporting any of the weight. “So if you drop it, I'll catch it.” 

It was a huge risk. Even with such little weight, if his arms weren't prepared to catch the falling barbell, when his palms did secure it it would probably pull down on his shoulders, too. But Nitori didn't need to know that, and Sousuke wasn't going to think about it. 

“O-Okay, Yamazaki-senpai,” Nitori stuttered, then took a deep breath. “I'm ready.” 

And then, in a move that honestly impressed Sousuke more than a little, Nitori did in fact lift the bar from the holder, and then lift it slowly, his arms shaking and his hand red from the tight grip. 

It was barely moving. Sousuke had probably overestimated his basic ability; they should have started with just the bar, and no weights. But looking down at him, Sousuke saw the determination on Nitori's face, between his puffed out cheeks, firmly sealed lips, and furrowed brows. Whatever Nitori lacked in natural athletic ability, and it was obviously quite the deficit, he made up for it with sheer willpower and determination. And Sousuke had to respect that, even if it meant spotting for someone who could barely handle 14 kilos of weight across his arms and upper body.

“Don't forget to breathe,” he coached firmly, trying not to let the fondness he felt leak into his voice. “Exhale as you push up. Just like when you're swimming.” 

Sousuke hadn't planned on spending his evening watching over a huffing and puffing Nitori, but by the end of the session he had to admit, the view was sort of worth it.


	15. Haruichi/Eijun + "the feeling I get when Eijun pitches"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prompt for this fill was [this image](http://i.imgur.com/2YCpLkK.png), a screencap from where Haruichi is looking at Eijun thinking _"What is this feeling I get when Eijun-kun's pitching?"_

_“What is this feeling I get when Eijun-kun's pitching?”_

Only three first-years made it onto the first string of Seido's baseball team that Spring; of the three, Haruichi felt as if he was the one being left behind by the others, who got to play in most of their summer matches. Seido was lucky where second basemen were concerned, given that they already had his older brother in that position. Haruichi applied to Seido knowing he would be competing with Ryousuke directly, had anticipated the strain that would put on their relationship and on him trying to climb out of that shadow, but it was different thinking about it from the security of home, and living it from the dugout match after match. 

Not that Haruichi wasn't grateful for the dugout; outside of the diamond itself, it offered the best view of a match. It offered the promise that Coach Kataoka could call on him at any moment to get ready. It offered Haruichi the chance to learn how his teammates played in the face of the real thing. 

They called Furuya _Kaibutsu-kun_ right from the onset and it wasn't hard to see why. His fastball was terrifying and exhilarating, and it made Haruichi itch for a bat most times he watched it in action. He wanted to test his mettle against that kind of pitching. Sawamura... Eijun-kun, he was a different kind of monster, Haruichi thought. The kind of monster that had endless reserves of energy, like a videogame boss who restored himself to full health just when you thought you'd taken him down. No, more like the healer incarnate, who could rally an army with frequently insufferable battle cries. 

Kind and optimistic but dangerous underneath, like a feral cub.

There was power behind his pitches in that even he didn't know where they were going to end up (though hopefully for the sake of the team, it would be in Miyuki's glove). Unpredictable, they forced a batter to live in that moment, to think on his feet, to swing with confidence. And that wasn't to speak of his power as a bunter, or his adorable penchant for calling their teammates by nicknames that ran the gamut from 'endearing' to 'please don't.'

He called Haruichi _'Harucchi'_. He didn't bully him for being quiet, or expect anything out of him other than camaraderie. Haruichi's respect for him was close to endless.

Or, as Ryousuke teased, maybe it was something else entirely. 

(Not that Ryousuke had any room to comment, in Haruichi's opinion, when he had a huge soft spot in their shortstop.) 

And _maybe_ Ryousuke wasn't completely wrong – there was still time for Haruichi to figure everything out on his own pace. Until then, if he was transfixed by how Eijun-kun looked with wet hair in the evenings, allured by the amber glow of his eyes, or just content to watch him rule the mound, that was all perfectly fine.


	16. Ennoshita/Yamaguchi + "standing up for you"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prompt for this image was [this](http://thatsnotbeautiful.tumblr.com/post/138575730206) series of gifs; for those unable to follow the link, it is the scene from the Wakutani vs. Karasuno match where Coach Ukai is about to scold Yamaguchi for being too afraid to perform a jump floater serve, and Ennoshita cuts in between them and defends Yamaguchi.

When the match against Wakunan ends, Yamaguchi needs space from his teammates and excuses himself to the bathroom. 

He doesn't expect to find Ennoshita there, scrubbing at his face angrily with tap water. 

“E...Ennoshita-san...” he manages softly. The sound of the door shutting behind him is probably louder than his voice is. Yamaguchi isn't sure which one Ennoshita hears, that makes him turn around with his face dripping. 

“Yamaguchi,” Ennoshita says, looking mildly surprised. He wipes his chin off on the back of his hand, and then reaches for a paper towel. “How are you feeling?” 

And this is what Yamaguchi doesn't want. He doesn't want to celebrate with the other first years, but even more so, he doesn't want any of the upperclassmen's pity. There is no way out of the conversation, he finds, with the two of them in a small, out of the way boys' bathroom. He either answers to Ennoshita, or he runs away again. 

“I... I'm glad to see you here,” he stammers, finding another way out. He bows deeply at the waist, and hears the surprised noise that comes out of Ennoshita. “Thank you. Y-You stood up for me, with Coach Ukai, and you didn't have to... I mean, I deserved to hear what he was going to say. And what if he'd gotten mad at you instead–“

Ennoshita clears his throat. “I don't think Coach Ukai is that petty, actually. Um, could you please stand up, Yamaguchi? There's really no need for this.” 

Yamaguchi stands, but his knees are still quavering, bones clacking too loudly. “I'm sorry!” 

“It's okay. I didn't – it wasn't – I just. Did what I thought Daichi-san would do. Stand up for his teammates and their choices no matter what it cost the team.” Ennoshita explains a bit sheepishly. “Although... sometimes, I don't think Coach Ukai gives you enough credit. You specifically, out of everyone on the team.” 

Yamaguchi, at a complete loss for words, can only gape. Ennoshita laughs nervously and continues.

“When I was a first-year on the team, and practice got to be too difficult to the point where I couldn't keep up with my classmates anymore, I ran away. And I regret doing that, and I probably always will regret doing that; every time I play in a match I still wonder how much better I might be if I had that extra time with Coach Ukai Senior. But you are nothing like me, Yamaguchi. When you found out that you were the only first year who wasn't a starter on the team, you found a way to make yourself useful to the team anyways. You're the only one of us who can pull off a jump floater serve, even if it's not perfect yet. If Karasuno flies, it's thanks to everyone's unique abilities, including yours.” 

Yamaguchi gapes a moment longer, as words vibrate in his mind, trying to form coherent, logical sentences. He never thought anyone on the team was paying so much attention to him, except for Tsukishima, who walked with him to Shimada Mart some days after practice. 

“I... I don't think leaving the team makes you a bad person, Ennoshita-san. A-And even thought you're not a regular, everyone on the team respects you. Tanaka-san and Nishinoya-san listen to you, and even Hinata and Kageyama fight less when you're around, I think. Um, just because you acknowledged your limits, that's not a flaw, or anything? A-And besides... you came back, Ennoshita-san.” 

Yamaguchi looks up through his lashes to glimpse the awe on Ennoshita's face, and feels a small sense of pride that he could say something important. It gives him the courage to add, “I don't know if I could come back, if I ever left. I think that would be really, really difficult.” 

“It was,” Ennoshita admits in a small voice. “Especially then, the captain was... well, he was pretty much an asshole. Nothing like Daichi-san.”

Yamaguchi finds himself chuckling a little. “Nothing like how you'll be when you're captain, right? 

Ennoshita stammers, not real words, and then he huffs. “Did Noya or Tanaka say anything? I haven't agreed to anything yet, they just keep insisting–“

“You'd be a great captain!” Yamaguchi says too quickly, cutting him off. He flushes. “T-That is, I can't think of anyone who would be better. Tanaka-san and Nishinoya-san are... kind of scary. They would get too carried away. And Kinoshita-san and Narita-san are nice, but... they're kind of quiet. Usually when Kinoshita-san talks, it's to make fun of Tanaka-san somehow, anyways...” 

That makes Ennoshita stifle a laugh, and he looks at Yamaguchi with an open smile that makes his heart repeat its on-court performance. 

“It's reassuring to have your support, Yamaguchi. Especially since it looks like it has to be me by elimination.” 

Yamaguchi smiles too, and he hopes it doesn't look as dumb and helpless as it feels. 

“Not that I'm eager for the third-years to graduate, but I look forward to you being our captain. And, um, I know you said you don't want me to thank you for before, but I'm going to do it again anyways.” Yamaguchi bows deeply a second time, his chest relaxed like a loosened knot. “Thank you Ennoshita-san.” 

Ennoshita sighs, pats Yamaguchi's head gently, and murmurs, “Thank _you_ , Yamaguchi.”


	17. Kuramochi/Ryousuke + "a box of old photos"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **PLEASE NOTE THIS CHAPTER CENTERS AROUND A MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH.**
> 
>  
> 
> This was part of SASO's bonus round 3, which was themed around gifts and gift tags. This prompt read:
>
>> package: a box that contains old photographs and photo albums  
> from: kominato haruichi  
> to: kuramochi youichi  
> note: we were cleaning out nii-san's room when we found these. you probably need them more than i do.
> 
> **PLEASE NOTE THIS CHAPTER CENTERS AROUND A MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH.**

Youichi has never been one to shy away from his emotions, and so he's crying before he even gets the box open. Haruichi's handwriting is surprisingly hard to read, and he's not sure if that's because of the tears filling his eyes, or the person shaped grief neither of them have kicked out of their party. 

The box is heavier than it looks, to Youichi's surprise as he carries it home from the post office, and the thought is at once a soothing balm and a new open wound; there are probably so many pictures of Ryousuke inside, but pictures are all they'll ever be.

He takes the box to his bed, the one that's been too cold to sleep in without the human radiator he used to have occupying more than his fair share of the space. It hasn't been made in weeks, probably, Youichi isn't keeping track of how long he's fallen asleep on the couch instead, with the TV on so he's not left in the quiet. 

Youichi inhales deeply when he gets the box open, which isn't a great idea because he gets a noseful of dust. Did Haruichi even open some of these albums? The plastic sleeves are stuck together in the first one Youichi picks up, and he smiles in spite of himself because he's caught so off guard. The photo must be of Haruichi's birthday, the very first one, because there's a tiny pink fluff poking out of a blue blanket – what makes Youichi laugh is the look on Ryousuke's face. He's got to be, what, all of three years old, and rather than the blank smile he would come to perfect, the confusion and wonder and disgust he was feeling are reflected in the wrinkle of his nose, the curious fingers ready to poke the baby nonetheless. 

A photograph turns into two, an album becomes another, and Youichi isn't always picking them out in order so Ryousuke's age goes from three to fourteen to seven to one and back up again. The Seidou photos are the fewest, but the toughest; Youichi sees his own face and the smile that threatens to eclipse it, and fears that one day his mouth will betray him in that shape again. He can't imagine not carrying this grief anymore, no matter how unhealthy his friends or the therapists they force him to meet think his behavior has become. He's annoyed that Miyuki doesn't even look condescending anymore when their eyes meet, and it's just pity that faces him instead when Youichi insists that this is _loyalty_.

Haruichi's probably the only one who understands, but he's hard to face when he bears such a striking resemblance to his older brother; he even admitted to Youichi on the morning of the funeral that he's taken all the mirrors out of his bedroom because it felt like he was being haunted. But Ryousuke is nothing if not a tenacious ghost.

Youichi wakes up to his phone blaring Ryousuke's least favorite pop song, a ringtone he hasn't remembered to change, and reels for a moment when he realizes that the is Sun scalding his eyes. He slept through the night, in their bed. Before reaching to answer the call, he looks down at the photo closest to his hand, the last one he'd been looking at, and touches Ryousuke's face where he knows his dimple would be if he were smiling wide enough. 

“...Haruichi? ...Yeah, yeah, the fucking postman thought it'd be funny to make me go pick it up instead of just leaving it on the doorstep, but I finally got it... How am I feeling? 

“...Better. Much-- much better.”


	18. Yamaguchi/Yachi + "we're expecting"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prompt for this chapter was:
>
>> envelope: small, nice quality pink, with a watermark stain near the seal  
> from: Hitoka  
> to: Tadashi  
> note: I want to keep the child.

Tadashi really, _really_ wishes Hitoka hadn't opted to tell him by letter. 

She lives in Tokyo now, works for a design firm that makes everything from juice labels to magazine spreads, and over the phone she always sounds like she's the happiest she's ever been. It gives Tadashi that floaty feeling inside when he hears it, like his blood isn't quite reaching his fingertips and so nothing is weighing them down. He imagines that, if she had called with this news, her voice would have sounded nothing like that. 

As he reaches for his cellphone with hands that cannot stop shaking, cannot grip anything, what is reality, is this what dying feels like? Tadashi also thinks about the last time he saw her, three weeks ago when he visited her apartment for the first time. He remembers thinking that the front rooms, for all that they were beautiful and elegant and even a little edgy, felt nothing like the girl he remembered from high school, the girl he snuck kisses from before practice, the girl he gave his second button to on graduation.

Her bedroom, with its light pink furnishings and almost childish sense of playfulness, that was his Hitoka. 

It's a wonder when he manages to pluck her name out of his contacts and start the call, a miracle when the dial tone is ringing in his ears. 

And then it's Hitoka's voice, thick with sleep, and it's _reality._

“H'llo?” She mumbles, and Tadashi remembers that she has one ringtone for coworkers and another for friends, so she knows when she can get away without formalities. He also thinks, though he can't be sure, that she didn't check Caller ID before picking up. 

“H-Hitoka-chan,” he mumbles back, not because he's sleepy. He's the furthest thing from sleepy; he might never see a wink of sleep again. “I got your letter.” 

There's a yelp from the other end of the phone, and then a pause that goes on for too long. When she speaks again, Hitoka sounds like she's the anxious fifteen year old he first met. 

“I'm not asking you to make any sacrifices or come be part of the child's life or anything like that! I just know that I needed you to know that you're going to have a child in the world and I... I've already made up my mind, so you can't talk me out of it!” 

Tadashi knows that; he learned the hard way that when Hitoka sets her mind to something, she is never going to change it. So he doesn't bring up her fledgling career, or her fourth floor walk-up, or the judgmental looks she will get from strangers. 

“I can be a counselor anywhere,” he says, instead of everything else. “There are always going to be people who need someone to talk to. And the baby... the baby needs a dad, too. Not just an anonymous father. So unless there's someone else you want that to be--” 

“Of course not!” Hitoka screeches, because she's crying, of course she's crying. Tadashi is crying too, and he keeps his voice low so it stays steady. 

“Then I hope you don't mind me moving in with you... at least until we find a good place to start a family.” 

Hitoka sobs on the other line, pleading _'yes, yes'_ as if she truly worried that Tadashi would say 'no'. He can't hold her like he wants to, like he so desperately wants to, to hold her and kiss her while _their baby_ grows out of multiplying cells inside of her. So he repeats her mantra of _'yes, yes'_ and holds tightly onto the letter.


	19. Nishinoya/Tanaka/Bokuto + "stuffed owl"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Please note that this chapter contains references to TAXIDERMY.**
> 
> The prompt here was:
>
>> package: two plastic bags bundled around something soft  
> to: noya  
> from: ryuu  
> note: do you think bokuto will like it?

“Noya, when I suggested we get Bokuto a stuffed owl, I didn't mean a _preserved_ one!” 

“But this is so much cooler than a toy owl! He probably has a million of those, anyways, this is a totally one of a kind gift. And look at how awesome it's pose is, Ryuu! – Ryuu? You're, uh, looking kinda yellow...”

Tanaka was _feeling_ kind of yellow too, and not in a sunshine-and-daisies kind of way. Only Nishinoya, when tasked with obtaining a simple birthday present for their nationally ranked, if not simple-minded, volleyball Ace boyfriend, would go and get him an actual stuffed and mounted taxidermy owl. Tanaka groaned and hugged his stomach. 

“I don't know where you got those guts of steel from, bro, but any normal person would probably feel at least a little 'blegh' when looking at an unholy undead artifact.” 

“You're so dramatic!” Nishinoya laughed, much to Tanaka's chagrin. “Taxidermy is totally normal, and totally cool! This majestic Great Horned Owl is going to live in a badass predator pose for the rest of its afterlife.” 

Tanaka, stomach feeling more settled now that the surprise element was gone, hummed and looked over the owl. It had a massive wingspan, and once you got past the glassiness, the eyes were aggressive and kind of haunting. 

And there was no overlooking the resemblance between its crown feathers and Bokuto's unique hairstyle. 

“How did you even manage to get this? I don't know much about stuffin' animals, but this guy's got yen signs all over him, and you're not exactly rolling in cash... Actually, you still owe me 1700.”

“What's a couple hundred yen between boyfriends?” Nishinoya grinned. “But fair, fair, it was definitely worth its weight in gold. Actually...” And here Nishinoya looked sheepish, and started rubbing the back of his neck. “I sold the vintage, limited edition Super Saiyan Goku figure I inherited from my uncle on ebay. You should have seen the bidding war!” 

Tanaka looked at Nishinoya in complete awe. “You're either a total idiot or the most romantic guy on the planet,” he murmured. “How can I compete with that level of boyfrienditude?!” 

Nishinoya laughed, smacked Tanaka's back, and then kissed his cheek. “You don't have to. You're already the perfect yes romo.” 

Tanaka looked away shyly from Nishinoya's open praise, and back at the proud owl. He sighed. 

“My guess is, when Bokuto sees this, he's either going to ask you to marry him or freak out because it's a dead owl and that's really, really sad. I'm pretty sure tears are going to be involved either way.” 

Nishinoya frowned. “Oh, shit, I guess I didn't think about dejected Bokuto. Do you really think seeing this could upset him?”

Tanaka, realizing that Nishinoya spent a _lot_ of money on this gift, opted not to send him to a nervous breakdown. “I mean, worst case scenario, he'd probably be upset for like, point two seconds? But this is Bokuto, he'll give it a name and we'll make a special memorial type plaque and he'll end right back up in hoot hoot heaven.” 

Tanaka waited to watch Nishinoya visibly relax completely before he clapped him on the shoulder. 

“Now let's wrap this thing up before those eyes haunt my nightmares.” 

–

Upon opening his gift, Bokuto squeals, lifts the giant bird up by his wooden base and raises him over his head, and declares his name to be Kouta-kun. He then spends the next fifteen minutes following Akaashi around “until you admit I have the coolest son ever!” 

Tanaka discreetly fist-bumps Nishinoya under the table.

**Author's Note:**

> Your feedback will always be loved and appreciated! If you like my work, check me out online @ [twitter](https://twitter.com/haikyuutiie) | [tumblr](http://zahhaked.tumblr.com)


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